Home Poem by Lenin Meitei Thingujam

All day long, I`ve been studying signs;
But still I can`t find my way back home;
And the compass mocks me,
With its hand pointing north.
I run my hand over the tattered map,
Wishing I could feel the bosom of that virgin valley.
I rub my nose over the shattered snap,
Wishing I could catch a whiff from that bountiful belly.

Your songs have been drowned out,
In a barbed Babel.
Your dance has been frowned about,
With a warped label.
How I long to see you restored to your glory,
To the heights you were in my Grandpa`s stories.
I weep inside like a gypsy child lost on the highway,
In a strange land with my baggage blocking the gangway.

Call me back like the Humpback does,
With music in your voice.
Help me find my way back home,
With a trail of shining stars.
Set me free me from this foster yoke,
With a wish that builds peace.
Heal me back to being your son,
With a tag of my forefathers.

All year long, I`ve been studying signs;
But still I can`t find my way back home;
And the compass still mocks me,
With its hand pointing north...